#NOW EVERYBODY'S DEAD!!!!!!!!!!

[spacedlexi]

its my birthday who wants some KISSIES!!!

[kinselu]

they have him pinned, but at least they're warm!

fanart for @tsunochizu 's backwards through the snow fic! im SO normal about this story (still emotionally recovering from chapter 15) i love this fic so much <3

they are the STINKIEST of family...

(for those who haven't read this fic, first of all, go read it now. but also pebbles is mostly ok. kinda. hes just dirty and stinky... amongst other things)

[dailyloweffortpace]

Day 12: OH GOD HES MULTIPLYING

[anna-scribbles]

thirteen update 🍂 🎹 🏠 👻

chapter 2: November

chapter summary:

She was in a good mood. If she was ever going to take it well, it would be now.

“Maman, what if I went to school this year?”

excerpt:

“Heh.” Adrien flicked a finger beneath his chin and strutted the length of his bathroom floor, glancing at himself in the mirror. He twirled a rose—a red one, one he’d grabbed from the vase downstairs—between his fingers and then presented it to the mirror with a flourish.

“Haruhi!” he declared, “the spring of my heart surges upon the sight of your fresh smile, my love. My heart beats at the command of your drum! Your face is the fierce longing of my soul, and I present to you now this token of my lavish, undying—”

A sharp knock clicked against the bedroom door and Adrien froze, his hand still passionately hovering over his heart.

“Adrien?” Nathalie’s voice called, and Adrien—true to character, if he did say so himself—startled so hard that he slipped and fell onto his butt on the tile.

“Yeah?” he called, hastily pulling himself up and trying to find a place to set down the rose.

Nathalie peeked her head through the bathroom door and took him in, his rumpled hair and the too-small blue blazer he’d saved in the back of his closet for occasions such as…this.

“You have a guest,” she said flatly, and Adrien could not for the life of him figure out whether she was making fun of him.

She left before he could decide, and then it was only a matter of seconds before his bathroom door was thrown all the way open and a blonde ponytail bobbed into view.

“Adrikins!” Chloé crashed into him, wrapping him up in a hug that nearly knocked him over again. “It’s been way too long. You’ve been neglecting me. Aw, did you get me a rose?” She plucked it from his hands and then scrunched up her nose. “Ew, is this real?”

“As real as the current that springs from the well of my heart,” Adrien invented, and Chloé frowned at him like he’d just spoken Greek. “Nevermind.”

She looked him up and down and scrunched her nose up even more. “What did you do to your hair?”

Adrien frowned at his reflection in the mirror and pushed his hair further over to the side.

“I was trying to make it look cool.” He’d been trying to make it look like Tamaki from Ouran High School Host Club.

“It looks like you just rolled out of bed.”

read on ao3

[youngdutchishot]

Do you think Dutch sees Hosea in everything? Does he find him in flower fields or areas they used to frequently visit and hunt, or would easily bicker until the sun set? Does he stumble upon his life on paper he scribbled over with streams of worry, endless ideas that he scrapped, and thoughts of him and Dutch, and the "good ol days" when waking up truly felt good, truly felt real. Does he find familiar warmth around campfires or is it cold because Hosea isn't there anymore and spewing a yarn of stories he'd lovely exaggerate for effect.

Does he stay awake thinking different of the past, dwindling flames of fears because Hosea isn't beside him now like they had promised? Does he pace around in snow late at night, reminiscing to himself in echos and praying he hears the sound of Hosea laughing along.

Does he find that he's lost a part of his soul and will never get that piece back. Because he'll never be himself if Hosea isn't with him.

[tathrin]

The Extremely Serious and Scientific Legolas Fandom Hair Colour Poll:

What colour hair do you picture in your head for your personal mental image of Legolas of the Woodland Realm? (Not necessarily which one you think is more or less "canonical"; rather just what you see in your head when you're reading something.)

Ideally, you can also share when and how you were first exposed to Lord of the Rings in the tags or reblogs, and what you think most influenced your mental image.

No I'm not procrastinating from writing stuff, go away.

[river-of-wine]

Do you guys ever think about Molly laughing at Dutch in her final scene. Do you ever think about it. I think about it so much. I think about her even more

[kazumahashimoto]

you're colder than i remember

[ultraweirdgirl13]

[soulless-bex]

ignoring that the canon answer to jason’s resurrection is “superboy punched a wall”, i propose immortal!Jason Todd

as in, jason is actually a meta-human who can’t die. the only reason he stayed dead as long as he did in the first place is because of how fucked his body was after everything the joker put him through and he needed to “heal.” even then he was still recovering after literally digging himself out of his grave

however, since he most definitely can’t remember shit until after his dip in the lazarus pit, he doesn’t know. talia kept her mouth shut because knowledge is power, jason never asked because he was Angry and there were no other witnesses

so immortal meta-human jason but nobody figures it out until he dies again

[justsigma-bsd]

"I'm so tired of all of this... I don't know how much longer I can do this..."

[ghostenluvs]

my brain literally jsut said 'spider queen poor unfortunate souls amv' with no prior context.

now i need to make conmtext to get this to happen.

gwt ready for a little mermaid au.

lore ramble in tags

[hamletthedane]

“Isn’t it weird that we don’t use cell phones in our dreams”

That’s not weird. What’s weird is that we cannot READ in our dreams. What the fuck is with that. We don’t talk about this enough - it’s so spooky.

[pettyprocrastination]

Mutt

Summary: After an ambush, Soap learns to trust the newest member of the 141

Pairing: Johnny Soap Mactavish x Fem!Werewolf!MC (call sign is Mutt)

warnings: vague description of violence and injuries. 

word count: 800

thank you to: @captainsamwlsn @thesadvampire @humanransome-note @joel-mlller and @luxuryberzatto @madhyanas @littleferal and @djarin-junk for helping me with this story and rattle off in your ears about Mutt! I love you all so very very much <3

_______

     “What are you?” 

     It was a valid question given the circumstances. 

     Soap could hardly count himself as conscious at that moment. It was a wave, pulling him back and forth until he was able to force his head to the surface, gasping for air and able to just barely look at his surroundings before he was pulled under again. 

     “Does it matter?” 

     It was dark out. He remembered it being dusk when they set out on their mission, the sun slowly setting in the horizon as Price told them to radio in at any issue and meet at their rendezvous point as soon at possible. 

     Fuck. 

     He broke the surface once more to notice that he wasn’t moving, but swaying side to side. Each step that crunches the ground is not his, but the blood drip, drip, dripping down, leaving a foreboding trail of their journey, is.

     Your shoulder digs into the crevice of his chest with each movement. 

     “Yer carryin’ me, Mutt.” 

     “I am.” 

     You never spoke much. Johnny had equated you to Simon in that way, quiet and foreboding. Your actions spoke where your voice rasped in the shadows. Tucked in the corner booth of a pub when the others went to celebrate a job well done. The loyal guard dog, waiting on its haunches for an order. 

     He was the one who would move to you first. Setting a beer in front of you before sliding into the seat across from you with a tap of his knuckles on the polished table. His knee would bump yours every time. You’d never complain. 

     “Big scary bastards, the both of you.” 

     But then you’d give him a grin, a flash of your crooked canines so fast it was gone when he blinked. 

     “Well it’s a damn good thing you talk enough for all of us then.” 

     Jonathan Mactavish was only a stone’s throw from 215 pounds but you carried him without complaint. The swaying with each step made his head spin and looking up was too much work for him to trust himself not to vomit. He let his eyes drop and stare at the ground, watching you take one step after another in a steady rhythm like an infant listening to their mother’s heartbeat. Through the darkness, he’s able to make out the shadowed shape of your feet in the night.

     “You’ve got no shoes on, Mutt.” 

     “Feels better this way.” 

     He can’t see much. Even if it weren’t for the blood loss and what he’s going to safely assume is a grade two concussion, it’s far too dark out for his surroundings to be seen as anything more than vague shapes and textures he can almost make heads or tails of.

     Your eyes are focused on the trail ahead, already accustomed to the darkness in a way he’d never seen anybody else without night vision goggles or a Mag-light. 

     “Tried to reach Price but the comms are busted. You got your bell rung pretty bad back there but-” You shifted your grip on his body and he felt something sharp press against his ankle, a gentle warning that mouthed at the skin of his Achilles's tendon. “We're only a few miles away from the rendezvous point. Think you can keep it together until we get there?”

     Claws. You had claws. 

     Through the nausea rolling through his body and the lights dancing behind his eyes, Soap could feel the fog begin to clear from his head. A flash of orders rising from his memory like the vision returning after a flash grenade. 

     He remembered seeing you charge through the muzzle flash and smoke like a vision. Uniform stained with the viscera of your enemies so dark he didn’t recognize you at first. The moment you came toward him he was raising his gun until he heard you speak.

     “You know me, Johnny.” 

     But he didn’t. Not really. 

     When he looked at you there was no familiarity or trust. He knew the color of your eyes and the curl of your lips in a snarl but nothing else. Not your name or family nor the reason you joined. 

     In the darkness, moonlight glinted against your eyes and he found himself thinking of the coyotes in Las Almas that watched him and his team from the shadows, pacing with a choir of chattering yips and howls in the darkness, waiting for the proper time to pounce.  

     He’d never admit it but there was a pause, when his hand held the barrel of his gun steady at your head.  Just as long as the width of the shallow breath trapped in his lungs, a split second where his pointer finger twitches, where the voice in his head urges him on. 

     “You never answered my question.”

     He knows nothing of you except that the blood in your mouth was spilled for him. 

     “I’m your teammate. That ought to be enough for you.” 

     It would have to be. 

[glitteringcrab]

They built a wall around infinity

What is the Central Finite Curve wall made of???

Is it some random sci-fi stuff like "sub-ether barrier"?

Well, if the theory that the colour yellow is associated with brain stuff is true, I'd like to point out the following:

1. The ultra beam Eyepatch Morty shot through the Citadel to bring down the Curve was yellow:

It became stronger after Eyepatch Morty infused it with blender-ed Ricks and Mortys:

Why did that work??

How could that have possibly pierced through some sort of dimensional wall? Is it really just a matter of something as "benign" as calibration or killing them to be thorough?

2. And who else, apart from Eyepatch Morty, had been collecting the bloodied remains of Mortys in vats?

Why, the Citadel Ricks.

That's... odd.

Did they collect physically "defective" or misbehaving clones before disposing them all off in one go?

Was it a slaughterhouse, with excess rickless Mortys being sent to death?

Was it a sort of punishment to terrorize Mortys into obedience?

Was it a sort of execution for criminal Mortys?

Was the number of Mortys dying in the Citadel from horrible living conditions simply that high, that they needed to be collected and disposed off in a special way?

Could be any of the above really... But even at the first time I watched this episode I thought that was odd.

(...and why have portals that apparently do nothing but spew blood... Where did that blood come from?)

(Is it Rick blood...?)

3. Rick says this concerning their brainwaves:

He's making it sound like it's just a matter of detection. Visibility. Camouflage. Nothing actually substantial, just a matter of stealth.

...says Morty, referring to his "camouflage" properties.

...replies Rick, which seems kinda redundant, doesn't it?

He agrees with Morty that "Morty is more than a human shield", but the only actual "more" thing in Rick's subsequent description of Morty is the phrase "perfect impenetrable".

Is he just rubbing in Morty's face how effective he is as camouflage?

...Or is he talking about something else?

Something... truly impenetrable...?

What. IS. The. "Wall around infinity". Made. Of??????

(...is it like... crystallized brainwaves of Mortys who died painfully...?)

(I mean, if you can crystallize time, and infuse a freaking liquid with code that allows it to pierce through dimensions, why not also be able to liquify and project brainwaves?)

[ohimsummer]

sukuna fight been goin on for thirty years atp. kill that mf off or let him kill the rest of the chars already this shit old